All the Small Things
by I am hurricane
Summary: "You were supposed to be in bed when I got home, Stilinski." she says, with a pout. Stiles gives her a slow sexy smile. "Oh, yeah?" he says, lifting an eyebrow. "So what are you going to do about that?" Malia flashes him a glint of teeth, before she plants a hand in the center of his chest and presses him back against his evidence board. "All sorts of things..."
1. Chapter 1

**Sequel of To Save a Life and Nine Simple Rules, Originally a one-shot but I've been inspired to keep writing it.**

* * *

 _Beacon Hills, California_

 _Nine Years After Graduation._

Malia quietly unlocks the front door of her two-story red brick house on Cherry Street. She carefully shuts the front door and slips her keys into her pocket as soundlessly as possible. As she takes in the sight and smell of her home, she feels the tension of the last few hours, she spent on board her flight back home, slip off her shoulders. She sets down her tightly packed travel backpack, and camera case.

She pauses to crick her neck and roll the kinks out of her shoulders before she starts climbing the stairs. Malia pauses at the top of the stairs and peaks inside the guest room door. In a low-rise bed with a guard-rail, sleeps a four-year, Rory. Stiles' baby sister. She always stays over on Tuesdays, when the Sheriff and Melissa have their date night. Rory loves the colour pink _and sports cars_. And she loves to come visit Malia at the garage and see all the cars. Rory pretty much has Stiles wrapped around her little finger. He really loves being a big brother—probably because he spent so much of his life as an only child.

Malia chuckles internally as she notices that Rory has kicked off her blankets, but has persistently clung to her teddy bear. So she slips into the room and kneels down, pulling the blankets back over the girl and tucking them under her chin. She fondly brushes Rory's bangs out of her eyes, before rising and sneaking back out of the room.

A few doors down is the nursery and Malia can't resist slipping inside the room. After almost a week away she has a strong need to see her son. She can already hear, her baby making a soft bumbling noise. Obi, her German Shepard is slumped down on the floor, guarding her son's cradle. The dog lifts his head, wagging his tail at the sight of her, but he doesn't rise from his post. Obi is fascinated by the baby and almost always sleeps in the nursery with him. Malia reaches down to ruffle the fur on Obi's neck.

Malia leans over the crib and smiles when she finds her six-month old son, Tate, bumbling and playing with his toes. Tate's eyes widen and he lets out a squeak of delight as he sees her. His cubby little arms strain upward reaching for her. Malia scoops Tate up and bounces him, gaining a giggle from him. She kisses his hair and breathes in his scent, while Tate grasps one of the zippers on her jacket and curiously toys with it.

Malia quietly inspects her son. It feels like so long since she's held him and he's growing so fast. She brushes her hand over the fine layer of his dark brown hair, she could swear that it was a touch longer, than before she left. As she's fussing with his hair, Tate reaches up and catches her finger, squeezing it in his tiny fist. Malia feels her heart squeeze, and she gently rubs her thumb against her son's tiny palm.

Tate rubs at his eyes and murmurs. Malia adjusts her hold on him and beings to hum a soothing tune. Tate's face rests against Malia's chest, listening to the soothing vibrations. His eyelids droop and Malia quietly paces the room with him, humming softly as he drifts off to sleep. With practiced skill she carefully lay a slumbering Tate back into his nest of blankets. But as she lay her son down she notices that he still has a tight grip on her thumb. Malia's heart catches in her throat. She leans her elbows on the crib, and just watches the peaceful face of the little boy clutching her thumb.

After a while Tate releases Malia's finger in favour of bringing his little pink fist to his mouth and sucking his thumb. She leans back and watches her son with a lopsided grin for a few more moments before slipping out of the nursery.

Malia shuffles down the hallway to her bedroom. She smiles in the expectation of seeing her husband sprawled out across her side of the bed. A habit she found that he'd picked up whenever she was away. When she came home from these trips she would often find him with an arm thrown around one of her pillows. She found it cute. And tonight she was looking forward to prying her pillow from his grasp and taking up her rightful place in his arms.

But as she pushes open the bedroom door, and the hallway light spills into the room, she finds it empty. Malia lets out a small disgruntled noise, at not finding him there. With soft feet she sneaks back down the hallway, and glides stealthily down the stairs. She finds him in the basement staring at his evidence wall. He's so caught up in piecing together this latest case that the young detective doesn't even notice that she's in the room, until it's too late. She sneaks up on him, wrapping her arms around his middle and nuzzling his neck.

Stiles jolts forward in surprise, "AH! MALIA!" he yelps, spinning toward her. She gives him a playful grin and moves into his space, sliding her hands up his chest. Stiles lets out a relieved laugh and rubs a hand across his face. "Ugh- you scared the hell out of me!" he scolds. "What happened? I thought I was picking you up at the airport tomorrow?" he asks, concerned as he slips his arms around her waist.

Malia grins and laces her arms around his neck. "We finished up earlier than expected, and I just wanted to get home." she leans into him and gives him a soft lingering kiss in greeting.

"Is that you saying, you missed me?" he teases.

Malia gently grips his tie. "You were supposed to be in bed when I got home, Stilinski." she says, with a pout.

Stiles gives her a slow sexy smile. "Oh, yeah?" he says, lifting an eyebrow. "So what are you going to do about that?"

Malia flashes him a glint of teeth, before she plants a hand in the center of his chest and presses him back against his evidence board. She leans forward and nuzzles into his neck.

"All sorts of things." she promises, hotly in his ear.


	2. Chapter 2

Something indistinct teases her senses, and Malia stirs beneath a tangle of warm blankets. Their bed is warm and incredibly comfortable, and something within it smells just delectable. She hums contentedly, as she reaches out beneath the blanket to bring the source of it closer. Her eyes flutter open as she realizes that she's alone in the middle of their bed, with her face pressed greedily into Stiles' pillow. She lifts her head and squints around the dimly lit room.

His clothes are gone from the floor. The bathroom door is slightly ajar, but it's empty. He hasn't been gone long though. She can still taste the damp air from his shower. And traces of his shampoo and aftershave still linger in the air. Distantly, she hears the clatter of pots and pans and the low rumble of voices in the kitchen She flops back onto her pillows and stretches languidly.

She lingers there comfortably for a few minutes and enjoys the familiar sounds of home. Feet shuffling in the kitchen. The steady drip of the coffeemaker. Bacon sizzling in the pan on the stove. The patter of Obi's feet on the hardwood floor. Tate babbling and jangling his toys. The sleep roughened timbre of Stiles' voice as he chats quietly with Rory. The little girl's laughter floats up the stairs, and her heart swells.

She remembers doing this as a child, laying in bed on Saturday mornings and listening to the sound of her parents chatting in the kitchen, knowing that it wouldn't be long before her little sister Lindsay would come giggling up the stairs to wake her. After the accident she never thought she would get to have this again. _To be a part of a family._

She allows herself for a moment to remember the sweet sound of her mom's voice, and the sight of Lindsay's pigtails bobbing as she moved. But only a moment before throwing off her covers and rolling out of bed. She reclaims her flannel pyjamas from the floor. She shrugs them back on and combs her fingers through her hair, before padding barefoot down the stairs.

Obi barks and wags his tail rushing to meet her at the foot of the stairs. Malia scratches between his ears, "Hey, buddy," she says, fondly.

"MAL!" Rory cries, as she jumps down off the kitchen counter where she had been sitting helping Stiles stir something in a mixing bowl. The little girl crashes into her, hugging her fiercely.

Malia chuckles, ruffling the girl's wild black curls, "Hi, short-stuff."

"We're making you waffles!" she says, as she pulls back. Malia smirks at the smudge of flour on the girl's noise.

"I never would have guessed," she teased. Rory grabs her hand and tugs her into the kitchen.

As Malia steps up to the counter, Stiles wraps an arm around her middle and presses a lingering kiss to her temple, "Mornin', baby."

She leans into him, grinning stupidly. She's never thought of herself as the kind of girl that would go weak in the knees over a few sweet words. Much less the type of person that would tolerate cutesy pet names. But there's just something about the rough timbre of his voice when he calls her _baby_ that warms her all the way to her toes.

When he leans away Malia rises up on her toes and gives him a slow, gentle kiss.

"Yuck, mushy stuff." Rory whines.

Malia pulls away from Stiles and raises an eyebrow at the little girl, "Don't worry, Rory I saved some for you."

The little girl lets out a little yip of surprise as Malia darts down and blows a raspberry on her cheek. Rory giggles and stumbles backward, brushing off her cheek.

"Ew, you slimed me!" Malia lets out a silvery laugh and ruffles the girl's hair.

Rory stuck out her tongue playfully in response. "Why don't you go see if there's something in my jacket pocket, you little monster."

"You brought me something?"

Malia shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know you'll have to go check." Rory giggles and dashes for the front door and Malia smirks at the little girl's excitement. She reminds her so much of how Lindsay used to be.

Malia turns back toward her husband and grins when he holds out a cup of coffee to her. Malia takes the mug from him with a warm, "Thank you," her eyes flitting over him none to subtly as she takes a sip. He's already dressed for work in a red and blue plaid dress shirt and dark blue tie, with his sheriff's deputy badge clipped onto his belt. She really likes that shirt on him because it brings out his big brown eyes.

Malia sets down her mug on the counter and grabs a handful of Stiles' shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. Stiles hums in the back of his throat and hooks an arm around her middle, tugging her closer. Malia chuckles into his mouth as they bump noses, and her hands slid up his chest to grip his face as she kisses him thoroughly.

"Hmm, I missed you." He mumbles against her lips, as they breakaway to catch their breath.

Malia laces her arms around his neck and and leans in to nuzzle against his ear, "So nice to be appreciated." She whispers playfully in his ear.


End file.
